


One Truth

by astorii



Series: Exes & Woes [9]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: AU, Alternate Title: The Start of A Great Bromance, F/M, Gen, Hattori is a lil shi—, KaiShin Exes AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 10:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astorii/pseuds/astorii
Summary: Needless to say, Hattori Heijisucksat first impressions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not and never will own DCMK. :(

Would it be hypocritical if Kaito calls this stranger out for trespassing?  
  
When he finished having breakfast with the Aoko and her father, he didn’t expect to see a dark-skinned teen sleeping on his steps. He guesses that this guy means no harm—after all, if he did, then surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall asleep on the stairs? Even on the off chance that this guy may be dangerous, Kaito moves closer to poke him in the cheek.  
  
“Oi oi,” Kaito says. When the poking doesn’t work, he settles for _lightly_ slapping the guy. “ _Yo_. Wake up. You’ll catch a cold sleeping on the steps like that.”  
  
Dark blue-green eyes snap open and Kaito jumps back.  
  
“Yer Kuroba Kaito, right?” asks the stranger. “I’ve been lookin’ for ya.”  
  
That’s… not creepy at all.  
  
Behind his poker face, he regards this guy with suspicion and apprehension in his gaze. Kuroba Kaito is, as far as anyone is concerned, no one _too_ special—simply the class clown, lazy genius, and aspiring magician. For what reason would someone be looking for him? He can only think of one reason off the top of his head.  
  
He doesn’t like it.  
  
“Before ya go gettin’ any wrong ideas,” says the guy. “Lemme introduce myself. The name’s Hattori Heiji.” He gives Kaito a curt nod while grasping the brim of his hat after he rises to his feet. “I’m here ‘cause I heard yer Kudō’s man.”  
  
“And what about it?” Kaito narrows his eyes. He and Shinichi didn’t try to keep their relationship a secret but they didn’t flaunt it either. Jokingly, he wonders if this guy happens to be a detective—or one of Shinichi’s stalkers, but he’d rather not entertain that idea—because it would take a bit of digging to find not only his name but his address too.  
  
“See, ya might know me as The Great Detective of the West—or The Kudō of the West.” The guy—Hattori, he reminds himself—shrugs as he leans against the railing. “I’m always bein’ compared to yer man so I thought I’d challenge ‘im to see which one of us is the better detective.”  
  
Oh. He’s _actually_ a detective. Damn. Okay then.  
  
Kaito raises his brows. He’s certain that no one could be better than _his_ detective, but maybe he’s just biased. Instead of saying so, he just says, “I hate to break it to you, but he lives in _Beika_. This is _Ekoda_.” He begins to move past him and adds, “‘sides, I broke up with him a while ago, so I’m not his—as you say— _man_.”  
  
Hattori makes a strange sound, but Kaito chooses to ignore him until he says, “Since ‘is parents are outta the country, I thought the next best person to ask would be _you_. Word is that Kudō’s missin’. Last anyone’s heard of ‘im was some case at Tropical Land. An’ that was _weeks_ ago.”  
  
“Missing, you say?” he replies with his hand on the knob of his door. Kaito swallows. _Tropical Land_. Didn’t Akako warn him the night before to watch Shinichi during his date with Ran there? “What makes you say that?”  
  
“No news ‘bout any cases he’s cracked… hasn’t attended classes in _weeks_ …” Hattori hums. “People are startin’ to talk. Haven’t ya heard?”  
  
“I haven’t exactly spoken with him since the break-up,” Kaito mutters. Sure, he has alerts set to notify him for any mentions of Shinichi in the news, but he’s taken to ignoring them recently in favor of focusing on other things—namely certain _extracurriculars_. And he also made sure that the only way Shinichi—or anyone else, really—could contact him is by actually coming to Ekoda. He figured that, since no one came, either Shinichi is _done_ with him or has decided to give Kaito some space for one reason or another.  
  
And if either Ran or Shinichi told Aoko about the break-up, then she’s doing a bad job confronting him about it—or maybe his well-timed pranks or teasing comments about her panties are just _that_ distracting.  
  
When he turns around, Hattori is staring at him with an intense gaze. “Damn. So, yer useless,” deadpans the detective. Kaito sputters indignantly. Hattori just flaps his hand in a dismissive manner. “But if ya could point me to someone who might know where he is, I wouldn’t be opposed.”  
  
Are all detectives this annoying? Of course, _his_ detective is the exception— _usually_ … even Kaito can’t deny that Shinichi still has an ego rivaling that of his own and he certainly isn’t lacking in arrogance either, but Kaito still loves that about him; it’s oddly charming when it isn’t outright frustrating.  
  
With a scoff, Kaito says, “Mouri Ran. She’s been his best friend since preschool. I’m not about to give you his address, but you can’t miss the Mouri Detective Agency.” He turns back around and grasps the knob. Turning it, he pushes the door open, but doesn’t go in just yet. “And by the way, Oh Great _Kudō_ of the West, ‘Nichi’s _brilliant_. No one could ever hold a candle to him.”  
  
Except, well, Shinichi’s father, but Yūsaku doesn’t count.  
  
“Yer givin’ me mixed signals here, Kuroba,” Hattori says, sounding peeved. Kaito’s grip tightens. “Actin’ all nonchalant ‘bout ‘im bein’ gone but still complimentin’ ‘im nonetheless. Do ya care ‘bout ‘im or not?”  
  
He pauses.  
  
“Of course I care,” he tells him, trying to keep his voice neutral. _Poker face_. “Why wouldn’t I?”  
  
“Then why break up with the guy?”  
  
“ _Yeesh_. You detectives are always so nosy!” Kaito flaps his hand over his shoulder. “Shoo. Off with you. No one wants to see your ugly mug this early in the morning.”  
  
With that, he disappears into his house and locks the door behind him. Much to his amusement, he can hear the detective cursing at him before that loud voice grows softer.  
  
He pulls out his phone and finds Shinichi’s number in his blocked callers list.  
  
Should he…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hattori may be bad at first impressions, but Kaito isn’t much better. Sksksksks.
> 
> Originally, it’s Aoko who brings Shinichi’s disappearance to his attention. Then I remembered Hattori exists and this was born.
> 
> Anywho... is Kaito going to call Shinichi? Shrugs.
> 
> But okay. So, I’m marking this as 10 chapters for now, but it may change to 15 depending on how much I write for the cases. ^ ^ But do expect to see Kaito again. Hehe.
> 
> So, technically, I’m keeping my promise of a longer installment. Just nothing big because _baby steps_.
> 
> Anywho... what did you think? ^ ^


	2. Chapter 2

“Ya better not be lyin’ to me! Kuroba says if anyone knows where he is, it’s gotta be ya!”  
  
Conan trips up the last step after having caught that last part. Kuroba? As in: _Kuroba Kaito_? Why would this client be mentioning _Kaito_? Why would Kaito send a client here? It’s these questions that fuel his curiosity. Conan twists the knob and pushes the door open as he slips his childish poker face into place.  
  
“I’m… home?” He stops in the doorway, standing on his toes with his hand still on the knob, and stares at the scene in front of him. The tickle of an oncoming sneeze has him holding his breath. Quietly, he wonders why Ran would be so angry—at least, if her trembling fists and scary demeanor are anything to go off of.  
  
Then he thinks to the words that he had caught. If this _Kuroba_ is indeed _Kaito_ , then it’s no wonder she’s mad.  
  
Conan sniffles and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. Have his colds always been this bad? He doesn’t even remember the last time he was sick! Last he checked, there hasn’t been a bug going around—and he’d _know_. Elementary schoolers aren’t known for their impeccable hygiene, after all.  
  
Involuntarily, he lets out a shiver.  
  
“Oh, hey, bōzu,” calls out the client, raising one hand and nodding in greeting as he lounges across the couch. Conan blinks, his mind slowly catching up to the fact that— _right_ —Kogorō has a client. “The name’s Hattori Heiji. Since that guy an’ Nēchan here don’t have a clue, maybe ya could tell me where to find Kudō.”  
  
Conan coughs into the crook of his elbow before asking, “Do you mean Shinichi-niichan?” between sniffles. He tilts his head in hopes of emulating the average, curious little child. “And what do you mean by _that guy_?”   
  
And when he sneezes not even a second after asking his questions, Ran drops to her knees in front of him, fussing as she dabs his nose with a handkerchief while muttering something about how a bug must be going around.  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Kudō Shinichi. Modern Holmes. The Great Detective of the East. _Whatever_.” Hattori rolls his eyes as he pushes himself to a sitting position. He leans back, folding his arms behind his head. “And by _that guy_ , I mean Kudō’s man. Not-man. Kuroba Kaito or whatever.” Conan feels his heart do a complicated maneuver in his chest. “I went to see the guy ‘cause I was hopin’ he could lead me to Kudō.”  
  
Ran asks the same question plaguing Conan’s mind. As she rises to her feet, turning to face Hattori with her hands on her hips, she asks, “And why exactly are you looking for Shinichi? If it’s a case, then Otō—”  
  
“Well, for starters,” Hattori says, interrupting her with a grin, “ya might know me as The Great Detective of the West so I don’t need yer old man to solve a case when I’m plenty capable.” His expression falls away to reveal a look of annoyance. “Or maybe ya heard of me as The Kudō of the West dependin’ on who’s talkin’. Frankly, I’m gettin’ tired of bein’ compared to some guy I’ve never even met, so I thought I’d see if this guy was worthy enough to be compared to _me_.” Conan raises his brows. “But word on the street is that Kudō’s missin’. Obviously, that ain’t gon’ stop me so I came lookin’ for ‘im.”  
  
Despite how odd it may seem, Conan asks, “What did Kaito-niichan say about Shinichi-niichan?”  
  
Brows raised, Hattori shrugs. “Weird guy, that Kuroba. His back was to me, so I couldn’t tell, but he didn’t seem to care when I told him that Kudō’s rumored to be missin’.” _Why does hearing that hurt so much?_ “Was all ‘oh! I haven’t exactly spoken with ‘im since the break-up’ when I asked ‘im ‘bout it. I told ‘im he was useless and then he sent me here.”  
  
“ _Why that jerk_ —”  
  
Before Ran can finish, Hattori quickly says, “I dunno the story ‘hind the break-up, but…” He scratches the back of his neck. “The guy gave some real _mixed_ signals. Didn’t seem to care ‘bout Kudō bein’ missin’ but he told me that Kudō’s _brilliant_ and that no one could _ever_ hold a candle to ‘im.” Conan coughs into his elbow to mask the blush. Kaito said that? About him? _Seriously_? “Then he told me to go away. The bas—” Ran clears her throat “—ketcase called me _ugly_.” Hattori snorts, leaning back as he crosses his arms. “Man. At least I know one thin’ now: Kudō has a _bad_ taste in guys.”  
  
For a split second, Conan is thankful that he can use his cold to explain why he broke out into another coughing fit. Wryly, he thinks that Kaito’s personality is an acquired taste. Coughing some more, he mentally adds, a _very_ acquired taste.  
  
Ran half-heartedly pats his back.  
  
Conan wonders if his time has come yet.  
  
“Well,” Ran sniffs, “I _just_ finished talking to Shinichi on the phone. Other than a cold, he seemed _fine_.” Conan forces himself to ignore the crestfallen look on her face. “But… he hasn’t been at school for a while and it’s starting to worry me. And every time I ask, he tells me that he’s just working on a case and won’t be back for a while…”  
  
To keep up the guise of a little brat, Conan tugs on the hem of her jacket. “You got to talk with Shinichi-niichan again? No fair!” he whines, trying his best to do a convincing pout. If this Hattori guy has been dubbed _Shinichi’s_ Western counterpart, he has to be at least _somewhat_ competent, which means _Conan_ has to _up_ his game. It’s hard enough keeping his identity a secret from _Ran_ , who is by no means a detective.  
  
“Again?” Hattori echoes, looking at him. “Ya mean to say Kudō’s in contact with ya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a secret: I originally had Kaito accompany Hattori to the Detective Agency, but I felt that it was too soon to introduce him to Conan. >-<
> 
> On a side note, you know the new DCMK runner game? I’ve had it for a few weeks, but I don’t play it often. >-< But yesterday, I finally got Kid as a sub character!!
> 
> And, currently, I have up to Ch. 5 written for this. ^ ^ Ah, I’m so excited!! Also, you may have noticed the change from 10 chapters to 15. 
> 
> The next 5 chapters—or 4, I guess, since this is one—will be the Diplomat Murder. Then we’ll have 3 interludes. Then we’ll have 5 chapters for the Holmes Murder. Then we finish off with another interlude of sorts. Hehe. At least, that’s my current plan. ^ ^


	3. Chapter 3

Heaving a sigh, Ran rises to her feet and plops herself down on the couch opposite of Hattori. “Well, yeah,” she admits, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Unless he’s been lying to me,” she says, glancing at Conan when he chokes on a cough, “then he isn’t missing.”  
  
Hattori nods, looking intrigued. He leans forward and asks, “Who calls who? How often? And whaddya talk about?”  
  
Conan narrows his eyes at him. Privately, he wonders if he should work out some sort of plan should Hattori somehow figure out who he is. He coughs twice as he glares at the guy. Detectives are naturally curious, so he doesn’t fault him for asking such questions, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates it.  
  
“He calls me,” Ran answers. “I’ve tried calling his phone, but the calls never go through. He calls at least once a week though.” She twirls her finger around long strands of hair. “We talk about the usual stuff: school… the weather… some new book he’s read… J-League…” Pausing, she looks over to Conan, who gives a sheepish smile in return. “Today we talked about the _Detective Samonji_ special that Conan-kun and I watched last week.”  
  
Hattori hums. “That all?”  
  
“Well,” she says, “every time I ask how he’s doing, he says he’s fine and changes the topic. It’s annoying, really. All we do is talk about him yet—”  
  
“—the guy never asks about ya, right?” Hattori interrupts, raising a brow. Quickly, he jumps to his feet and runs over to the window, throwing it open and thrusting his head out—and quite noisily, too; it even wakes Kogorō up from his afternoon nap. “Usually, if ya haven’t seen someone in a while, ya wanna know how they’re doin’. If he ain’t doin’ that, it can only mean one thin’: he’s been watchin’ ya.”  
  
_Shit_.  
  
Conan opens his mouth to say something to disprove that _very correct_ deduction—or to at least distract from it—but his words die out as he breaks into another coughing fit. Ran is by his side in an instant. When the coughing subsides, he’s left breathing heavily and rubbing his throat. _Seriously_ , when was the last time he had felt this horrible?  
  
“Sounds like you got it bad, kid,” Hattori remarks, dropping his duffel bag onto Kogorō’s desk; it sends empty cans to the ground. “Luckily, I got the perfect home remedy right here. Works like a charm!”  
  
With his vision blurred by tears that had welled-up, Conan looks up and sees Hattori pouring this _perfect home remedy_ into a cup. The other detective crouches down in front of him, pushing the cup into his hands before returning to the desk. Without thinking, Conan chugs it down and _holy smokes why does it burn so much_?  
  
“Are you feeling any better, Conan-kun?” Ran asks, staring dubiously at the cup.  
  
“Y-yeah,” he croaks, rubbing his throat with the back of his hand. _His throat has never felt worse_. With a hiccup and a little unsteady sway, he says, “Ran-nēchan, it _burns_.”  
  
Ran furrows her brows as she grabs him by the shoulders when he staggers forward, dropping the cup—thankfully, he realizes, it isn’t breakable. She snaps her gaze over to Hattori as he sheepishly pulls back the wrapping around the bottle to show the label.  
  
Kogorō, who had been grumbling as he stacked the few empty cans into a pyramidal structure on his desk, looks over at the bottle’s label. When his eyes widen, he squawks, “ _Ba-Baiju!?_ Isn’t that some type of alcohol?” as he sends the last of the cans to the floor with a loud clatter.  
  
Not even a second later, Ran is glaring furiously at their guest. “Are you out of your mind!? He’s _six_. Who gives a _six-year-old_ alcohol?” Turning her attention back to her little charge, she grabs him by the shoulders and guides him over to one of the couches. “Oh, Conan-kun—!”  
  
“I’ll have ya know it works _wonders_ for colds!” Hattori scoffs. “Not my fault the lil brat is such a lightweight. Think of it as a lil gift to show my gratitude since I’ll be here ‘til Kudō decides to show.”  
  
Absently, Conan notes the dangerous aura surrounding Ran as she stomps towards Hattori—looks like he’s about to witness a murder today, then—but most of his focus is on the fact that he feels _worse_ now. His throat literally feels like it’s on _fire_.  
  
“I do hope I’m not interrupting.”  
  
Conan turns his attention to the door to see a woman buried in a _Burberry_ coat—from the Fall catalogue, he realizes in a daze. Even with such tinted shades, he can feel her piercing gaze on him. He shivers. Much to his chagrin, Ran picks him up and motions for the woman to sit.  
  
“You can put me down now, Ran-nēchan,” Conan says after she offers to make coffee. She looks at him apprehensively, but obliges, setting him down and telling him to leave the adults alone. When her back is turned, he rolls his eyes and sneaks over while Hattori makes himself at home behind Kogorō’s desk.  
  
The woman introduces herself as Tsujimura Kimie, the wife of a well-respected diplomat.  
  
A few minutes later, Ran sets a cup of steaming coffee down in front of the client. Kimie nods in thanks and spoons in a helping of sugar and cream. And then she slides forward a folder.  
  
“I’d like you to investigate my son’s girlfriend,” she says without preamble. “I’ve included a photo and a brief history in this folder.”  
  
Kogorō raises his brows as he looks through what little information she’s included. Conan jumps onto the back of the couch and strains his neck to read over his shoulder.  
  
“Kutsuragi Yukiko-san. Twenty-four. Top of her class since junior high. Currently enrolled in Touto Medical School.” Kogorō scratches the back of his head, nearly hitting Conan in the face. “I don’t get it. She sounds like a parent’s dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I think you guys should watch [this edit](https://www.instagram.com/p/B0HFKIeBeEX/?igshid=laph0j0lxhss) I found on Instagram! ^ ^
> 
> Also, I wish to ask:
> 
> In the three interludes that follow the conclusion of the Diplomat Murder, what do you want to see?
> 
> Currently, one of the interludes is a conversation between Jii and Kaito in which Kaito realizes just how much he done fluffed up with Shinichi. As for the other two interludes...
> 
> Like, I’ve been entertaining the idea of Kaito going to Shinichi’s house and seeing the Org’s second visit to Shinichi’s place. Or Aoko/her father/Hakuba confronting Kaito about Shinichi. Or even Kaito trying to get in contact with Shinichi and maybe going all the way to Beika or something—tho, he won’t meet Conan yet. But I wanted to know what you guys want to see? ^ ^
> 
> Anywho... next chapter is Hattori’s interlude. It’ll speed us through most of the Diplomat Murder right up to him thinking he’s solved the case. Hehe.


	4. Hattori’s Interlude I

First, he wastes his time going over to Ekoda and meets Kudō’s jackass ex-boyfriend when he should have just gone straight to Beika.  
  
Then, he meets a bumbling oaf instead of a great detective like he had been expecting.  
  
Now, he’s dealing with a locked room murder and a nosy brat.  
  
Heiji sighs to himself. Hopefully finding Kudō will make all this trouble worth it. As he spares a glance at Mouri Kogorō, he frowns, watching as the man continues to stare at the same boring and definitely irrelevant painting he had been looking at for the past ten minutes. Is this _really_ the great detective Sleeping Kogorō? This… this _brainless drunk_ _of a man_?  
  
When he had boarded the train to Beika, Heiji had busied himself with researching the Mouri Detective Agency—it was either that or fall asleep again and risk missing his stop. He learned that it was owned by former-policeman-turned-private-eye Mouri Kogorō—known also as Sleeping Kogorō, a private detective whose rise to fame had been fast if a little rocky. The name, funnily enough, came from the idea that Otchan’s deduction shows were given while he appeared to be sleeping.  
  
A little more research told him that ever since Kudō’s been missing, this old man’s business has been thriving.  
  
And something inside him says this isn’t a coincidence, which is exactly why Heiji decided that Kudō must be hiding with the Mouris and providing deductions that Otchan would pass on. The man’s clueless behavior seems to contribute to the idea that those deductions he gives are not his own. There’s no way a total rookie detective like Otchan has solved all the cases that he has!  
  
Heiji huffs. He _really_ should have looked into Sleeping Kogorō before looking into the boyfriend Kudō had been rumored to have. But moving in with a lover sounds more likely than hiding away, right? Maybe he moved schools and didn’t properly pull out of Teitan High, which would explain the absences. Maybe the lack of news is because of lower(?) crime rates in Ekoda and there less cases for him to crack(?). Maybe the reason his parents have yet to report him as missing is because they know he’s safe and sound with his rumored boyfriend.  
  
Except that isn’t the case apparently.  
  
(He still can’t believe Kuroba called him _ugly_. That’s so _rude_. Heiji has a great deal of admirers, thank you very much!)  
  
But said rumors about said boyfriend stemmed from a blog post made only a few months ago that Heiji had stumbled upon not long after he began researching Kudō for clues on his whereabouts.  
  
Apparently one of Kudō’s fans had been lucky enough to see him at a bookstore in Ekoda. She had (rudely) inquired about his love life. The blogger informed her readers that a young man had appeared out of nowhere and swung his arm around Kudō’s shoulders while introducing himself as _Kuroba Kaito, ‘Nichi’s boyfriend_. Also apparently, Kudō just rolled his eyes and asked if the fan would be kind enough to leave them alone.  
  
Heiji entertained the idea that the post had been fake. After all, there weren’t any pictures—not that he expected any because Kudō has the right to privacy. Still, a lead is a lead. He did a bit of digging and managed to find an address.  
  
Just in case Kuroba’s parents or guardians felt that he was intruding, he nicked a bottle of _Baiju_ from his parents’ shelf to act as an offering.  
  
And, well, that brat should be glad! _Baiju_ does wonders for colds!  
  
Speaking of the nosy little guy, he didn’t look any better than he did earlier. Heiji wonders if the kid’s all right. It’s bad enough that the kid saw a dead body—there’s no need for him to become one either!  
  
Funny though. The _Baiju_ usually does the job by now. The kid should be running around, high on life and sugar, not dead on his feet—and, yes, Heiji can see that the little guy is struggling to stay on his feet right now.  
  
_Anyway_... Nēchan had given Heiji some new information to work with earlier. Now, he’s almost certain that Kudō is supplying Otchan with deductions—at the very least, Kudō is _watching_ and he’s around here somewhere. Why else would Kudō not inquire about Nēchan’s well-being when she’s supposed to be his best friend?  
  
Then again, for what reason would Kudō have to be hiding? Why does he have to let Otchan take all the credit? Heiji always thought Kudō was just another egotistical, self-entitled bastard who _lived_ for attention...  
  
But back to the case! He absolutely _cannot_ let Kudō win! Kudō may have yet to show his face, but that doesn’t mean Heiji will go easy on him. He just… he just has to figure out how all the pieces fit together: a key holder with cellophane tape… a skinny opening in the cellophane tape as if something had been taped down… the key being found in the victim’s inner pocket, folded…  
  
Wait.  
  
Heiji snaps his gaze towards the door. There’s a small opening underneath and it’s just big enough for something small to slip through! And if his hunch is correct…  
  
Then he’s got the trick all figured out.  
  
“Take _that_ , Kudō,” he murmurs, grinning triumphantly. Without wasting another second lest Kudō somehow already be a step ahead of him, he rushes out of the room as soon as he asks where the tatami room is. If That person did it, then it _has_ to be there! And only That person could have done it, so there’s no way he’s wrong!  
  
When he’s throwing pillows over his shoulders, Heiji feels somewhat bad about the mess he’s making, but it’s all going to be worth it when he wins this battle of wits. Sure, he’s a little disappointed that Kudō is a no-show, but it doesn’t matter! And— _there!_  
  
“Sorry, Kudō, but I’ve got this in the bag.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write something in Hattori’s POV. I also didn’t feel like having to introduce all those characters or the circumstances of the murder when none of that changes. >-<
> 
> Tbh, it probably feels like I’m moving too fast? Thing is, the murders themselves doesn’t change. I would actually die if I had to rewrite the entirety of the episodes. Thus, Hattori’s interludes will solve that problem. ^ ^ He’ll serve as my way to cheat through the episodes while offering some sort of comedic relief. It’ll be great. Trust me.
> 
> Anyway... I still haven’t written the 6th chapter, which wraps up the Diplomat Murder? Like, it just??


	5. Chapter 5

Wasn’t… wasn’t it opera playing when they found the body? And not classical music? Or is he going crazy? Or did the victim just feel like changing things up a bit?  
  
Conan sways before he shifts his stance in such a way that he regains some of his balance. He wipes his nose on the sleeve of his jacket for the fifth time in half an hour. _Ugh_. With a shudder, he makes a mental note to get this jacket washed as soon as they get back. He looks around. Maybe there are tissues…?  
  
“Ah, what’s this picture of?” he hears Megure ask. Conan furrows his brows, stepping forward. Stunned, he watches the world blur together in a multitude of colors and fuzzy shapes. _Oh no_. Is his vision failing him too? As if the headache and the pain wasn’t enough! _Gah_. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this sick before.  
  
Frankly, he blames Hattori. The guy has no right to preach about how children shouldn’t be exposed to dead bodies when he’s the one exposing them to _alcohol_. That’s probably hypocritical in some convoluted sense. No dead bodies but alcohol is fine?  
  
Wait.  
  
Actually…  
  
Never mind.  
  
_Ugh_.  
  
He can’t think clearly like this.  
  
“Oh dear,” says Kimie—it was her that said that, right? “That picture is from twenty years ago, Keibu. Please don’t mind it.”  
  
Is there something wrong with the pictures? Or is she really just _that_ self-conscious about how much she’s aged? Women tend to be like that, right? His mother, for example…  
  
Conan feels a whine building up in the back of his throat. He blames the cold. As he’s rubbing his eyes, he hears one of the officers asking about the books on the desk. These words have him turning to stare at the pile—a random assortment of titles with little to no correlation, his addled mind notices. Why, it’s almost as if someone had just grabbed a stack of books straight from the shelf with no regard for the subject!  
  
He narrows his eyes, glaring at the shelf as though it will help his eyes focus. The empty spot seems to be placed conveniently where one can grab a number of books without having to bend down or stand on something. Coincidence? Not a coincidence. Things seldom are. Though, Kaito would argue otherwise, wouldn’t he? _That lucky bastard_. Maybe in _his_ world, coincidences are a normal occurrence.  
  
In Conan’s world, however, coincidences are _miracles_.  
  
“There’s something odd about the keychain in the victim’s pocket!”  
  
_Cellophane tape_ _with a skinny opening_ is the only thing Conan’s ringing ears can make out. He rubs the heel of his palm against his head, frowning. Conan moves closer, holding his arm out as he mumbles, “Lemme see it,” before he stops in his tracks when a wave of pain hits him. He lets out a silent gasp before clenching his teeth while curling in on himself. His _chest_ —oh God, it _hurts so much_.  
  
Conan finds his right hand moving to grasp the fabric just above where his heart is. It’s beating so fast. He has… to focus on… the case…  
  
What is he missing? The clues—what are the clues? The strange stack of books positioned in front of the body… the opera that was _blaring_ when they came in… the key, folded, and hidden in the man’s inner pocket…  
  
_That’s it_!  
  
He grinds his teeth together, wincing as the pain in his chest increases. The locked room… he knows _exactly_ how it was done. The very idea makes him even more sick if that were even possible. And the only person who could have done the trick is—the murderer… is…  
  
“—an-kun! What’s wrong!?”  
  
Conan barely registers the feeling of being lifted and the sweet, sweet relief of a cool hand pressing against his forehead.  
  
“—anywhere he could lay—”  
  
Wait! _Nonono_. He has to—has to…  
  
“—igured it out… the trick to the locked room and—”  
  
Did he really?  
  
“—show you the evidence.”  
  
Evidence?  
  
Conan cracks his eyes open, turning his head despite his body’s protests. String? And not just any string but fishing line? He just came from the tatami room, didn’t he? _Nonono_. If this is going where he thinks it’s going, then Hattori’s got it all wrong! _He’ll send an innocent man to jail_.  
  
“—Megure—” _it hurts so bad_ “—act as the dead body?”  
  
This is wrong. _Hattori is wrong._  
  
“—be okay. They’ve called a doctor. He’ll be here an—”  
  
Passing out from a cold at a time like this? _It’s just his luck_. And _holy smokes what the—_  
  
“—an-kun? Hang in there, Con—”  
  
_He’s burning. His insides are burning. He can’t move. Why can’t he move? His heart feels just about ready to burst._  
  
“—ust be the doctor! I’ll be rig—”  
  
Is he finally going to die?  
  
_No._  
  
He can’t die yet! Not like this! Not when—  
  
Someone’s screaming…  
  
… or is it him?  
  
Conan belatedly realizes that his mouth is open in a silent scream—or maybe not so silent, he can’t really tell. With his eyes wide open and his chest heaving as he gasps for air, he wonders if any normal sickness does this. He screws his eyes shut right before he’s hit with another spasm.  
  
_It’s just like that night_.  
  
Acting on instinct, he rolls out of the bed, landing on the ground with a painfully loud thud. Fingers are ripping off his bow tie and popping buttons as he shoulders off his jacket.  
  
He doesn’t know how he knows, but—  
  
—it’s happening.  
  
He’s changing back.  
  
At some point, he must have blacked out. Conan— _Shinichi_ , actually—finds himself stumbling down the hall, dressed in clothes that almost hang off his body, and catching onto the last bit of Hattori’s incorrect deduction and the confession of a _framed_ man.  
  
“The person who killed my son, Isao… was me.”  
  
Shinichi leans against the door.  
  
“No,” he says, testing his voice. He feels all eyes on him. “That’s wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: for the interlude, should it be Jii slapping some sense into Kaito with his old man wisdom or Chikage threatening him via Skype call? Lol. And should Kaito _really_ go over to Beika to check out Shinichi’s house?
> 
> I feel like there was something else I wanted to say, but I can’t remember???
> 
> Oh. Wait. Um. I wrote this a few weeks ago? Anyway. Yeah. So. Interludes. Please help. Thanks. Love you. It’s late and I should be sleeping. xx


	6. Chapter 6

“That’s right. The murderer is you, isn’t it, Tsujimura Kimie-san?”  
  
Her face is twisted, conveying her disbelief. Had she really believed that she could kill a man in front of them—in front of _detectives_? Tsujimura Isao may have been a despicable man for having broken the woman’s family apart to satisfy his own selfish desire to have her as his wife, but that is no excuse for taking his life.  
  
Tsujimura Kimie had the _gall_ to make him and the others unwittingly play _audience_ to his death.  
  
The idea makes him sick.  
  
_As if this cold isn’t bad enough_.  
  
Shinichi nearly misses the voices of bewilderment in the wake of his accusation. It may be hard to believe, but he had shown them proof to at least debunk Hattori’s theory. And when one has eliminated all other factors...  
  
“Are you saying the victim was _alive_ when we came in?” Kogorō asks as his skin grows steadily paler.  
  
Shinichi nods, readjusting his stance when his legs feel ready to give out. Having his long limbs again… it’s _weird_.  
  
To his audience, he says, “I’m afraid so. Tsujimura-san must have given him a drug to knock him out—a strong one if she had administered it before she left to visit the agency.” He coughs twice. “When you arrived, she pricked him with the needle under the guise of waking him up. Her gloves likely served as a barrier between her own skin and the needle.”  
  
He glances at her hands, noting the distinct absence of those gloves. Quickly, he adds, “At least, Conan told me she was wearing gloves… he… he mentioned it when he was filling me in on the case.” _Yes_. Create a distinction between him and his shrunken self. “ _Anyway_ , if the poison were especially virulent, then the victim would have died almost instantaneously. And in the—in the case that he woke up, she had the books to hide his face and the opera to mask any noise he might have made.”  
  
Megure frowns. “But, later when we find the drug in his system, we would’ve figured the trick out, ri—”  
  
“No, ya wouldn’t’ve,” Hattori interrupts with a grimace. “We were convinced that the guy was dead upon arrival. Ya woulda thought the killer drugged ‘im earlier so there wouldn’t be a struggle.” He pulls on the bill of his hat. “She went outta her way to invite a detective ‘ere and took advantage of the fact that no one would kill in front of one. Thus creatin’ the illusion of a locked room.” He looks up at Shinichi. “That’s what yer tryna say, right, Kudō?”  
  
“Y-yeah.”  
  
“Then where’s the evidence?” Hattori asks, wandering over and leaning into his personal space. Shinichi takes a step back. “At the time, we didn’t see her pullin’ out a poisoned needle.”  
  
Shinichi smirks as he bends down to pick up the key that had fallen out of the inspector’s pocket. “That’s ‘cause she didn’t _want_ you to notice, so she took it out… with her _key_.”  
  
The look of dawning realization on Hattori’s face is almost comical. Shinichi would have to be losing his touch if he were wrong about her key holder splitting open the same way her husband’s does. In other words…  
  
“That key holder is conclusive proof that… she’s the murderer.” If he’s right… and he is, _of course_ —then this photo right here will serve as proof. “And here’s your motive.”  
  
A twenty-year-old photo. A secret past that was never meant to be known. And a sad truth that should never have surfaced.  
  
“Doesn’t she—doesn’t she look just like someone you know?” he asks, pressing a hand against the bookshelf in an attempt to steady himself. Is… is this not meant to be permanent? Or is he just suffering the side-effects of reverting back? “The hair color may be different, but you can clearly see—”  
  
“She looks just like Yukiko-san,” Ran pipes up.  
  
It’s her observation that pushes the culprit to confess. Tsujimura tells them of her first husband and her now-late husband’s deed. While everyone is taken aback by her words and the step-father’s own confession of guilt from all those years ago, Shinichi clutches the fabric above his heart.  
  
It feels like that night— _that night his life was ruined_.  
  
“Yo, Kudō, you okay?”  
  
Shinichi spares the Osakan a glance and smirks despite the pain. _He’s burning up_. With a chuckle, he says, “It’s just a cold.” Leaning back against the bookcase, he adds, “You know, when Conan told me over the phone to come quick ‘cause there was some strange detective from Osaka, I was expecting better.”  
  
Heh. Hattori looks _pissed_.  
  
“He called you?” Ran interjects, looking at him with worry in his eyes. “He has your number?” Her brows knot together as she steps forward, shoving Hattori aside. “You’re lying. Your number doesn’t work anymore.You’ve been watching me, all this time, laughing, haven’t you? Why else wouldn’t you ask how I’m doing?”  
  
Privately, Shinichi curses Hattori for his perceptiveness as he struggles to maintain his poker face. He can’t panic. Not here. Not now.  
  
His knees buckle. “I-I’m a detective. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be doing my job if—if I couldn’t… I just need to hear your voice and—”  
  
His body spasms as he breaks out into a series of coughs. Ran frets, running out the door in search of the doctor and Hattori continues to loom over him.  
  
“Huh. Looks like I lost from the start,” remarks the other detective. “Guess yer deductions were superior to mine, yeah?”  
  
Shinichi laughs, getting up on unsteady legs. Looking over his shoulder, he locks eyes with Hattori and tells him, “Ba’arou. There’s no wins, losses, above, or below when it comes to deductions. Because there’s always... only one truth.”  
  
He staggers out of the room before Ran can return with the doctor.  
  
Shinichi transforms back much to his chagrin.  
  
He almost forgets to ask that his involvement to remain confidential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who forgot this was sitting as a draft and waiting to be published? Lol.
> 
> So... junior year of high school has been rough.
> 
> Anyway, yeah, so... I said in another story that I was going to try to update two stories a month. Well, yeah, that’s not happening. Writer’s block sucks and I’m so busy... it’s a whole doozy, lemme tell ya. I’ve cried like six times this week and it’s only Tuesday. :’)
> 
> I’ve got so many comments sitting in my inbox. I’ll try getting around to answering them, but at the moment the only reason I go on ao3 is to read. Gotta try to draw inspiration from somewhere. :)
> 
> Anyway... thank you for your patience! Hopefully I can update something once Thanksgiving break begins. Or at least before 2019 is over. Lol.
> 
> Btw, I have an Instagram account called astorii4u? I’m not sure if I mentioned it. Lol. I don’t post anything, but I thought I’d bring it up so if anyone wanted to become friends or something, feel free to DM me. ^ ^
> 
> Edit: I think part of the reason why I forgot about this is because I wanted to rewrite it? Lol. I don’t feel like doing that so here you go. I wrote this so long ago so I have no idea how to feel about it now.


	7. Kaito’s Interlude I

Kaito should have known that something was up when Aoko and that bastard detective had spent most of homeroom whispering amongst themselves while sending him furtive glances. During class time, he could feel Hakuba’s eyes on his body—and, as flattering as it is, the only person who should be allowed to check him out would be his detective and not this _prick_.  
  
But it’s during lunchtime that the pair strikes.  
  
“Kuroba-kun,” starts the half-Brit. Kaito wonders if this guy is still going on about him being Kid, which isn’t wrong but that’s not the point! “I’ve… I hear you and Kudō Shinichi are lovers.”  
  
Well.  
  
_Shit_.  
  
He has a sneaking suspicion that flipping Aoko’s skirt won’t work as a distraction—not with Hakuba here.  
  
“Funny story,” Kaito says, plastering on his poker face. “I broke up with him a while ago. So, I believe the correct term is _exes_.” He ignores the way his heart seizes. _It hurts too much to say that_. Looking over at Aoko, he privately laughs at the look of shock on her face. “I meant to tell you, but…”  
  
“Bakaito did _what_ now!?” Aoko shrieks, garnering the attention of their class. Already used to their antics, most of the students turn away. Kaito manages to divert the rest of the attention with a mischievous grin as if he were promising Hell to anyone who continued to listen. “Kaito broke up with Shinichi-kun? _Why_?”  
  
“I imagine it’s because he isn’t confident in his ability to hide his identity as Kid from the so-called Great Detective of the East,” Hakuba murmurs, his voice low enough that Aoko doesn’t seem to hear. Kaito scoffs as he leans back in his seat. In a clearer voice, the detective says, “I wonder why someone like Kudō-san would date _you_ of all people.”  
  
Kaito’s eye twitches—a habit that he’s picked up from Shinichi. Crossing his arms, he replies, “Jealous, Hakuba? I bet you’d just _love_ to be known as the Modern Holmes.” He sniffs, turning his nose and looking away. “But I don’t think I have to share my reasons. If you must know, he didn’t do anything, so don’t try going over to Beika to bash his head in with a mop, Ahoko.”  
  
In hindsight, he should have expected the slap to the cheek.  
  
(He’s losing his touch. Just like he lost Shinichi. _Damn it_.)  
  
Kaito touches his face with fingers barely brushing against the abused skin. He gapes for a moment, poker face effectively shattered for that brief moment, before he reigns in any betraying emotions. He doesn’t bother to see if the class is watching. Slowly, he sets his hand back down.  
  
(He deserves that. He _hurt_ Shinichi. It’s only fair that he hurts too.)  
  
“Ba-Bakaito,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “Shinichi-kun loved Kaito for _years_. Why would Kaito break up with Shinichi-kun?”  
  
Before he can think of a response to that, Hakuba places a hand on Aoko’s shoulder. “There have been… rumors that Kudō-san is missing—possibly even dead.” Kaito swallows. His fingers are twitching. “Aoko-san has confided in me that she has been worried since she had not seen you with Kudō-san recently. I, myself, have been curious after hearing these rumors.” With a twinkle in his eyes, Hakuba continues. “After all, I’ve always wanted to meet the Modern Holmes.”  
  
“Ran-chan asked if Aoko had seen Shinichi-kun. Aoko told her no. And Aoko was supposed to meet with Ran-chan, but Aoko was too busy,” says the girl with a quivering voice. “And Tōsan told Aoko to ask Kaito about Shinichi-kun because Tōsan heard officers talking about how Shinichi-kun hasn’t been seen in a while. Kaito kept avoiding the subject.” She rubs her nose with the back of her hand. “Aoko didn’t want to ask Ran-chan in case it upset her and Aoko isn’t very close to Shinichi-kun anyway.”  
  
Kaito diverts his gaze as he sucks in a breath. He knows that Hakuba is probably analyzing his every move, but he finds that he could care less. That day when Hattori Heiji swung by, he had not tried to call Shinichi. Instead, he turned to the Internet as he scoured websites and forums. Indeed, his detective seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.  
  
Had his detective been more affected by their break-up than he thought? Kaito had sent doves to Shinichi’s home, but each one came back not long after arriving. All the feeds showed an empty house.  
  
Kaito has plans to visit this weekend after nightfall. If Shinichi is there, he can only imagine what could happen if he shows his face.  
  
“Can we not talk about this?” he asks, turning his attention out the window. “I’m worried about him too, believe it or not.”  
  
“I think we should leave him be,” Hakuba says to Aoko, his voice low. “I believe he’s starting to feel guilty. Hounding him any further will do us no favors.”  
  
“But Aoko wants to know why Bakaito broke up with—”  
  
Hakuba ushers her away, but not without casting one more glance at him. Kaito nearly cracks under the detective’s calculative stare. It’s eerily similar to Shinichi’s. Privately, he thanks the bastard for allowing him some solitude—it must be the smartest thing he’s ever done! And that, Kaito thinks, is a first.  
  
Just as he’s about to allow his poker face to fall for a moment, he feels the bone-chilling sensation he’s come to associate with Akako’s glinting gaze.  
  
“If you had heeded my warning, your Queen would still be safe,” purrs Akako. He looks at her, blinking, before returning his attention to the outside world. “Consider yourself lucky that he has the aggressiveness of the Devil. Your detective will need it.”  
  
He frowns.  
  
“What are you going on about now, Akako?”  
  
She laughs. “I’m not certain myself, Kuroba-kun. I can’t see as much as I’d like to. I thought you would at least like to know that the object of your affections hasn’t died yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been in my drafts since August. There’s another chapter that’s been sitting here, unpublished. Lol. I think there’s something I wanted to fix about this...
> 
> Anywho... I’m sorry for the wait. Oops.
> 
> For those of you who haven’t seen my other updated story, COVID-19 has reached my state and schools have shut down until near the end of March; however, we suspect that it will be for much longer. :’)
> 
> And for my fellow young Americans: don’t go out to hang out with your friends just because you think you’re invincible and won’t get the virus simply because you’re “young and healthy”.
> 
> Hopefully we’ll soon reach our peak and thus see more recoveries and less cases, but that moment isn’t now and the best thing we can do is be considerate of those who could die if exposed to the virus and of the doctors and nurses who are working endlessly and risking their lives to treat everyone who has been affected.
> 
> Please don’t add to the number of patients because it is my understanding that we are running low on equipment and supplies to help those whose cases have evolved to something more than “just another flu”.
> 
> Anyway!!! I hope I didn’t upset anyone with that. >-< It’s just kinda crazy to think about how this might very well be something that you’ll read about in history books.
> 
> Stay safe everyone! <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for taking the time to read this!! I hope you will consider leaving a comment and/or a kudos if you enjoyed it. ^ ^
> 
> Please don’t forget to take care of yourself and any responsibilities you may have forgotten!! Have a lovely day~ xx


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